Special
by HopeCoppice
Summary: Crack!fic. Bertrand finally gives in to McCauley's attempts to fatten him up... or so he thinks. One instance of swearing, some illegal activity, slash.


**OK, so I got bored and wanted something nice and silly to post... here it is. Warning: there is ONE SWEAR in this fic, so if that's going to really offend you, just don't read this one. There's also mention of illegal activity.**

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine but the silly idea for the plot.**

"Bertrand, Miss McCauley asked me to check you'd disposed of those brownies she confiscated earlier- what the-?" Bertrand was grinning dreamily at him.  
"She's always trying to give me food. But these actually looked good. And is this how chocolate makes you feel? It's amazing, I love it, it's brilliant." Vlad frowned suspiciously.  
"Is this another attempt to make me see that breather food makes you stupid?" Bertrand laughed, then stopped abruptly.  
"Are you calling me stupid?" Suddenly a horrible, albeit highly amusing thought occurred to Vlad.  
"Did you _eat_ the brownies?"  
"Mm yeah but not the miniature girl-guides, the cakey things. They were nice. You're nice." Bertrand blinked, apparently surprised by his own words.

Vlad studied him for a moment; he didn't appear to be joking. He slumped into one of the kitchen chairs and resigned himself to a long night of babysitting. Trust Bertrand to finally give in and accept the one food offering that really _wasn't_ a food offering. The brownies had contained certain... special ingredients that a whole bunch of sixth-formers had been expelled over, and any minute now...  
"I'm hungry," Bertrand announced. "I'm going to go and get a breather."  
The Chosen One gave him a withering look and grabbed his sleeve, but as it turned out the look was enough; Bertrand was going nowhere and doing nothing of the sort. They sat in the kitchen in silence, before Bertrand started giggling.

* * *

"Vlad," Bertrand began, "you have the most amazing eyes, do you know that?" Not for the first time since he'd discovered Bertrand's mistake, Vlad wished he could just use his _amazing eyes_ to hypnotise his tutor into behaving himself. Unfortunately, that would be morally questionable at best... besides which, he'd already tried twice and for some reason his hypnotism just wasn't working today.  
"Really." He wasn't particularly amused by having to cater to his tutor's crazy whims and humour his rambling. He wondered how long it would take the drugs to wear off. Anyway, the rambling was at least better than the truly unnerving sight of Bertrand _giggling_ like a child. Suddenly, though, Bertrand was standing, stumbling towards his student.  
"Vlad, Vlad. Vlad. Hey, Vlad, are you listening to me? You've got to listen to me because I'm your tutor." He puffed himself up importantly, then let out a completely unnecessary breath as he visibly deflated. "Wish I wasn't, gets in the way." Vlad raised an eyebrow.  
"I'm listening." Bertrand looked uncertain for a moment, then nodded as if he'd just found his place in the conversation.  
"Yeah, you've got amazing eyes. And... a really nice... face. And I wish you'd go out with me." He frowned slightly as Vlad gaped at him. "It's OK though, I know you don't-"  
"Bertrand, shut up a moment, this is huge."  
"That's what she said," his tutor sniggered, before slinking back to his chair as Vlad glared at him again.

* * *

"'M still hungry. Next time you go hunting, can you get me one?" Vlad rolled his eyes.  
"Next time I go hunting, yeah, of course." His tutor made a contented noise and promptly fell asleep on the table.

Vlad realised with a start that he'd never seen Bertrand _resting_ before. He supposed there was no reason he should have, but then... it didn't seem as if Bertrand slept at all, most of the time. That was a little worrying. Not to mention a crying shame, because a sleeping Bertrand was a beautiful thing to behold. Without the frown that seemed to permanently grace his features, they were even more handsome. Vlad reached out to touch his hair, not really sure why he was doing it. He stiffened as his fingers made contact, expecting Bertrand to wake and shout at him, but he slept on. Vlad found himself resting his chin on the table, trying to memorise every detail of the moment.

Ingrid walked in and he drew his hand back as if stung. She didn't seem to have noticed, though; she just whipped out her little digital camera – why had he ever bought her that? – and took a photo, smirking all the way.  
"That's almost the set. Watch your back, Chosen One." Then she'd disappeared again, leaving Vlad to wonder what she'd meant by that last comment, and whether he could persuade her to let him have a copy of the picture... purely for blackmail purposes, of course.

* * *

Bertrand woke with a start some hours later, head pounding. Vlad was sitting opposite him at the kitchen table, looking drawn.  
"Bertrand. With us?" He blinked doubtfully.  
"Of course I am. What happened...?" Had there been an attack? Had he been hit on the head in the valiant course of his duty? And then it all came rushing back to him. "Oh, _what_ was in those brownies?" Vlad shrugged.  
"They were special, let's leave it at that. You should be fine soon enough. I let you sleep for a few hours."

"Well," Bertrand nodded. "thanks for keeping an eye on me." Vlad smirked.  
"I kept both eyes on you. After all, they _are_ amazing." His tutor groaned, remembering the conversation all of a sudden.  
"I'm sorry about what I said-"  
"Did you mean it?" Bertrand, reactions still dulled, hesitated for just a second too long. "Well?"  
"Does it matter?" Vlad rolled his eyes in what was becoming an increasingly familiar gesture that evening.  
"Yes, it matters. Do I have to get you stoned again just to get a straight answer?"  
"Wouldn't be straight. Shit." Vlad raised an eyebrow; joking _and_ swearing in the same second? Bertrand was _strange_ under the influence.

"Bertrand du Fortunesa," he said in his best impression of an authoritative tone, "you have one more chance to answer before I go all Chosen One. Do you really wish I'd go out with you?" His tutor dropped his head into his hands and nodded miserably. "Then why didn't you try, I don't know, asking?" It took a moment, but the older vampire slowly lifted his head.  
"What?"  
"You're the only person I've found attractive in at least four years, apart from Erin and that was just a stupid crush because she was a girl and I don't know any other girls... Why did it take special brownies for you to admit you liked me?" Bertrand stared at him for a few long, torturous seconds, trying to catch up.  
"You couldn't possibly be interes-"  
"We've covered that, Bertrand. I am. Come on. Next excuse."  
"You...?"  
"Oh, stakes and garlic-" Vlad reached across the table to take Bertrand's hand, placing it carefully on his own cheek. Bertrand followed the movement as if in a daze, leaning forward to claim Vlad's lips in a soft kiss that tasted like chocolate. Vlad wrapped an arm around him as he tried to pull away, kissing him back until he was sure Bertrand understood that he was wanted.

When he finally let go, due mostly to the hard edge of the table cutting into his stomach where they were both leaning across, Vlad slumped into his seat with a thud and watched Bertrand do the same.  
"...I'm your tutor." He muttered stupidly.  
"Yep. Think of the potential to abuse our training sessions."  
"Abuse is exactly what I'm worried about being accused of."  
"I'm nearly eighteen, it'll be fine." Bertrand rose shakily to his feet, testing his balance gingerly.  
"You really... want me?" Vlad was at his side in a matter of moments, looking hopefully up at him.  
"If you want me." Bertrand wavered for a second before coming to a decision. He still, Vlad noticed distractedly, tasted of chocolate.

* * *

Ingrid's next photo, when she passed through the kitchen again an hour later, completed her set. It was a picture of her brother and Bertrand, passed out on the table. Judging by the way Vlad was on top of his tutor, she was just lucky they were wearing clothes. At any rate, her collection of blackmail photos had just become a lot more valuable.


End file.
